


Worth the Wait

by Whuffie



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: DA2, Dragon Age 2 - Freeform, Erotica, F/M, FemHawke - Freeform, Female Hawke - Freeform, Hawke - Freeform, M/F, NSFW, SEBASTIAN - Freeform, Sebastian Vael - Freeform, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 12:26:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3728899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whuffie/pseuds/Whuffie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is 100% erotica/porn/smut so please avoid if that (or Sebastian) aren't your thing.  I wrote it because it was Sebastian Appreciation Week on Tumblr at the time, and some people had expressed interest in Sebastian smut.  All sex is with consent.  Graphic descriptions of sexual acts between Prince Sebastian and Female Hawke on their Starkhaven wedding night are contained.  Very much not safe for work or minors.  Some oral sex is included.  I can't think of any other triggers that apply or any better description.  It's smut which I didn't spend a lot of time on.  Hopefully there aren't too many typing errors or terrible sentences because I didn't run this through a beta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth the Wait

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Everyone who said they wanted to read Seb smut on Tumblr.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Everyone+who+said+they+wanted+to+read+Seb+smut+on+Tumblr.).



Before the murder of his family, Sebastian had bent knee and swore heartfelt vows to serve the Maker as a brother in the Chantry. Under the eyes of the Maker and in the shadow of the huge bronze representation of Andraste, he’d made oaths of poverty, chastity, faith, loyalty and everything asked of a good servant. Even when tragedy struck and jackals butchered his family for political gain, he remained as true to the path as mortal flesh and blood would allow. Nobody could ever be perfect, and he’d been humbled when revenge turned less than cold ash on his tongue. The Flint Company mercenaries and later Lady Harimann had been the source of so much despair. He had thought that by seeking justice he would put an end to all of it, but it hadn’t. 

For years he had prayed for guidance and answers, lending his services to Hawke in payment for the help she had given him with his personal quests. Whatever she did which wasn’t completely within the laws brought more good than harm, so he was grateful for all the opportunities she opened to help other people. He’d grown fond of her, and could never say he wasn’t tempted by attraction. That was only human, but his path had been set to chastity. They had both respected that, beyond some early flirtation which made him extremely uncomfortable. Desire came in many forms, and he’d considered it a test of resolve to deny himself the pleasure of a woman over or beneath him. Had things happened differently in Starkhaven he would have kept to his solemn vows, but in the end, Hawke’s words had been the most sensible and profound. She had simply reminded him that the Chantry had many brothers to do good works, but Starkhaven’s options were extremely limited. For generations it had been governed by those who swore fealty to the Maker as well as the people. They deserved better than a puppet whose strings were tugged by anyone clutching for more power or influence. Sebastian’s love of the Maker hadn’t waned, but the direction had turned toward a home he hadn’t seen in over fifteen years. He would take his grandfather and parent’s example by leading justly the best he could with the Maker’s guidance. 

His return was not flawless. Celebrated by some, it was received by less enthusiasm by others. Taking back his seat of power had not been clean nor easy, but Hawke had helped win the admiration of Starkhaven much as she had Kirkwall. When the time came to announce their engagement, it was no surprise to the city. There would always be reservations and some protestation among the nobility, but all Sebastian’s vows had altered the first time when he again knelt for a golden circlet to be placed on his brow. The second time came shortly after when he took marriage vows in front of Starkhaven, and Hawke was crowned an equal in rulership. He had promised her no less than a prince, and she accepted his proposal the same day his title was returned to him.

The ceremony and celebration for their wedding finally came to a close. It was time to consummate their promises in a more private, intimate way. Their room had been especially decorated for the occasion, with dandelion and yarrow blooms twined festively in a spiral around their bed posts. Fresh candles were strategically lit on shelves or in corners, keeping all shadows at bay. Petals of flowers flecked their bed; a tradition the Chantry tolerated which was intended to encourage fertility. They scattered across blankets which the servants folded down for two people. Accepting the last blessing of a Chantry sister that they might begin a new life that night, Sebastian closed and locked the door behind he and Hawke. 

His wedding garb was traditional of the region, and a dark blue kilt fell to almost to his knee. Thick leather boots decorated with an intricate knot pattern left little of his legs showing, and his white shirt was loose across the arms and chest. Crouching to unlace the front of the boots, Hawke untied the throat of her dress both for comfort and to let it fall open across her cleavage. The roguish smile which was more often seen lifting his lips showed itself as Sebastian watched, then stood. He shed boots and socks without taking his eyes from her, and crossed the small space to circle behind his bride. Arms around her waist, he placed a seeming chaste kiss in a very particular spot where his wife’s shoulder met her neck. Appearances could be deceptive, and the “innocent” brush of lips sent a tremble through her. It also graced him with a delightful, partial preview of her breasts. 

He hair had grown out since Kirkwall, and been bound with vines of tiny flowers for the celebration. She leaned against his chest, offering her neck for more attention. He gave it gladly, placing a line of affection along the nape of her neck before putting his fingers to work in a harmless way. His quick hands, fully capable of picking locks in spite of his one time service as a brother, deftly unwound soft locks and plucked the decoration from them. Until that moment, even the most innocent of touches had been limited, and he buried his hand deep into her hair with relish. Fingertips massaged and played across her scalp in surprisingly seductive paths as he bent to kiss behind her ear. Lips brushed so lightly she barely felt it, and gradually pressed into an erotic caress. The tip of his tongue flicked out just as a tingle of sensation began to whisk down into her nipples and travel even farther down, arousing her. “We,” she said once she trusted her voice, “are very over dressed, my Prince.” 

“We are,” he agreed in a hushed whisper near her ear, and the corners of his lips caught her lobe. Hands lay flat against her stomach, gripping the fabric slowly into his hands. His fingers flexed to release it, then slipped up to cup her breasts. “We need to remedy that.” Even through several layers of cloth, he found her nipples, giving them a delicate tweak and rolling them between thumb and forefinger. 

After a moan trickled out of her lungs, Hawke took the initiative. Turning around, she completely opened the front of her pale dress, and worked it down her strong shoulders. With his help, her fancy breastband was removed, and her dress spilled down with the rest of her clothing. Kirkwall and early life hadn’t been kind to her at times, but she bore her scars with some pride. Not shying away from exposing them nor any of the rest of herself for the first time, she wasn’t surprised to find nothing but love and arousal in her new husband. Each mark on her body was tenderly touched and caressed as if it was no different from the rest of her. 

While she assisted, he lifted his shirt over his head and she kissed his chest, making the first explorations over the dips and valleys around muscles. He kept toned by working a bow, and she was quick to show her appreciation. As tradition demanded, he wore nothing beneath the kilt, and she undid his broad belt, letting it fall to the floor with her dress. 

Hand in hand, they took the few paces needed to come to the bed, and he lay her back on it. Putting his hands on her knees, he parted her legs while allowing her to see everything he humbly had to offer his wife in return for her love and beauty. Warm candlelight trickled across his face, accenting carnal desires in the jewel bright eyes she’d noticed about him the first time they met. He had confessed to her once that he’d chosen to become an archer because the warrior’s path and being hit so often didn’t suit him. Kirkwall had unfortunately made some scars inevitable for him, too. She paid them no more mind than he had, and was far more interested in broad shoulders. His lean, refined muscle cut the fine figure of his torso, and drew her eyes down to his hips. Maker’s sake, his erection could have only been called impressive. It wouldn’t have been empty praise to stroke his ego, because there was clearly a reason beside money and a handsome face that he’d once been popular in brothels. 

She’d been patient and respectful for him, waiting a very very long time for their marriage bed and titles before consummation. Had she known exactly what she was waiting for it might have been much worse or considerably easier to know what she’d be getting at the end. Sweet Andraste, he was going to fill her tight deep when he was finally inside of her. The idea made a sweet, hot throb of dampness pulse harder where her body was already longing for him. Her eyes raked over him, and she started to say something in invitation.

“Not yet, Love,” he breathed against her mouth as he leaned over her. Their kiss was slow, sensual, and his tongue teased the rim of her lips, asking hers to open. They did, and Hawke keened with a small catch in her throat as his tongue dipped, tangling with hers. It was the first time they’d shared more than a chaste kiss to seal their hand binding or the back of her hand. His hunger matched hers as she looped her arms around his neck, demanding he stay to satisfy years of her self pleasure while he sought guidance for his life. 

Their breath was ragged with intensity as their kisses danced over each other, and he reached down between them. Taking hold of himself, he began to rub the head of his erection against her swelling clit, teasing and exciting her. She gasped quietly and the throbbing ache intensified, making her feel acutely empty as her body prepared. She was so ready for him, and he parted her. Barely touching the yearning wetness reaching for him, he wanted her just as badly. It took even more willpower not to sink himself full length with less shame than a mabari in rut than it had to curb old fantasies. Fast animal thrusts would have taken them both to blinding climax in a matter of minutes, but it was their first time together. They would never be new to one other again, and there was an entire future ahead of them to spend as man and wife. With just a hint of her dampness around his head, he withdrew and took his self inflicted deprivations to her neck. 

“Sebastian!” she growled as her hips arched upward instinctively, seeking fulfillment which wasn’t there. Minor annoyance caused her body to make bold demands which were left unsatisfied when he pulled away. “What are you – oh Maker!” It was easy to forget that Sebastian had openly admitted his past to all of them at one time or another. His parents had exiled him to the Chantry for politics, but also because he was an embarrassment with his frequent drinking in brothels. Ever since she’d known him he’d been devoutly maintaining his vows of chastity, but he was no more a bumbling youth who got a first peek at another naked body than she was. 

His mouth closed sensually on the delicate skin of her throat, and warm lips sought out each place which sent a jolt straight down into her stomach or below. His teeth grazed gently, giving a light, erotic pinch which was followed instantly by a swath of his warm tongue. Pressed up against him, her nipples hardened and she dug her fingertips into his shoulders, leaving half moon prints from her nails. Striving to add to her new husband’s pleasures, she reached between them. Cupping him, she caressed the weight of his balls and the warm, taut skin of his length. Two could play at that, and it was his turn to groan in the hollows of his throat. She held him captive for long seconds, strumming her fingertips up and down his length until he slid his body down the bed, out of her reach. 

His mouth found her nipples at the same time his calloused fingers began to lightly flick across her clit. The combined sensations were almost maddening, and as his tongue lazily circled her breast, teeth caressed with just enough pressure that her nipples were almost painfully hardened. His feather touches made her unconsciously spread her legs wider, craving more than the tiny tastes he was giving her. She was teetering on the edge of climax, building to it by inches. Pressure was going through her limbs to focus on the teasing sensations on her clit when he abruptly stopped. She cried out, and possibly swore something which was more befitting the streets of Kirkwall than a Starkhaven noble’s wife. Her incoherent shouts were both pleasure and frustration, but just as she began to spiral down, his mouth was lavishing attention on the inside of her thighs. She jerked up, bucking her hips toward him.

His kisses were faster and more urgent than they had been on her neck as the most intimate scents and tastes of his new bride drove Sebastian’s own lust. By love and law she would only offer herself this way to him now, just as he was for hers alone forever more. That inspired many kinds of passion, and at heart, he had always wanted to serve; his people, the Maker, or his wife. It made him no less a man or a Prince to find deep satisfaction in hearing her caught in the throes of the pleasure. 

His tongue swirled quick, eager patterns on the inside of her thighs as he moved from above the knee upward, nibbling seductively until he found her sex. Parting her with his fingers, his mouth closed over her, softly sucking and rubbing the flat of his tongue against her with an almost consuming hunger. Feeling the tension building in her thighs as her legs rested over his shoulders, he doubled his efforts. With a finger sliding inside of her, he rubbed quick, demanding thrusts against her roof until her legs tightened and hips jerked from the bed.

Hawke’s first orgasm slid up and over her with a strangled cry as she balled the sheets in her fists. It wasn’t abrupt or deep, and spread out from where his insistent tongue was drawing it out of her to her limbs, breasts, and forced her back to arch. Satisfying and sweet, she came down gradually with a sighing groan. It wasn’t enough, but it was a very promising beginning as she relaxed her legs and fingers. 

With a thickening burr on his accent, Sebastian kissed her stomach and gently tugged the skin at her hip with his teeth. “We’re not done yet, Love,” he promised. 

“No,” she bantered once she’d caught her breath, “we aren’t.” Never let it be said that Hawke was a passive rose petal, because she levered her leg around his hip and rolled him over. Pinning him, she stared down through a cloud of hair as she straddled his legs. He hadn’t been satisfied yet, and she suspected he knew very well that she wanted more. Once the over sensitive twinges between her legs had settled, she was just as determined to feel him ride inside of her as he was to be there. “Turn about is only fair, my darling,” she quipped as she ran her hands luxuriously over his body. She began with fingertips touching his cheeks and ended at his knees, skipping what he undoubtedly wanted her to please the most. It was a point of excitement simply touching him and exploring the strength which was hidden beneath the brilliant white armor which made him stand out since the day she’d met him. His hands roamed and stroked what he could reach, and she retraced the path her hands had made. Using her mouth the second time, she meandered slow kisses and licks from his neck to every defined muscle, across the spray of hair on his chest, down his stomach, and deliberately circled his ready cock. She teased him as mercilessly as he had her, and tiny kisses began to flit over his erection. A flick of her tongue beneath the ridge of his head brought a mild jolt of his hips, and she pressed the flat of her tongue against him as she slipped up and down repeatedly. 

When his voice came out raspy and accent so thick he was barely intelligible, she halted, letting her breath roll warmly over him. As the rise and fall of his chest calmed, she plunged as much of him as she could take into her mouth, and sucked, sliding his length through her lips. Not wanting to put him completely over the edge, she only did it until her thorough assessment of his body was complete, careful not to do too much. By the time her clit relaxed to get ready for him again, she brushed her nipples against his hips and cock. “Nobody tells a prince what to do or who to do it with,” she repeated from a nearly forgotten past conversation, “until now.”

Sebastian chuckled richly in his chest as he breathed slowly, then elevated himself to his elbows. “Ready again, are you, Love?”

“Oh yes.” She emphasized her point with a gentle nip to one of his nipples and by cupping a hand between his legs again. “I think it’s time Kirkwall and Starkhaven solidified their union, don’t you?”

“Well past time, I would think. Come here.” The last was as much an invitation as an order, because they were partners in all things. She sat up to get closer to him, and he kissed her, moving to a place behind her ears. “Lay back,” he whispered between brushes of his lips. She reluctantly did so and he kept one hand underneath her while he stayed kneeling. “Put your legs up around my waist.” Once she had, he lifted her, keeping her weight on her shoulders as she was elevated. The expression on his face reminded her that in spite of his devotion to the Maker, he was still a rogue with the occasional indulgence of mischief. “Trust me, Love. You’ll want to arch your back.” Leading by example, his cock parted her lips and eased inside of the waiting wetness. With a low groan, he felt her tightly wrap around him, and had to resist the need to mount her again and again in a wild, blind tempest. Holding himself in check, he slowly sank to his full length, pressing flush against her entrance.

As he filled her, Hawke gasped, and was grateful he was supporting her weight. Exactly true to his advice, she arched, and he slid instantly into deeper penetration than any of her other partners. Legs clinching tighter around him, she bowed into him as he began to thrust his hips to hers, tantalizing the most sensitive place inside of her when she shifted her hips a little. His movements began controlled as he got the first feel of her, meeting her eyes with mutual intensity as he began to rock deep with quick, insatiable strokes. Her breasts swayed with the beat he set, and a light sheen of sweat slicked his brow. The incredible intensity built fast and hard, sending her plunging into a climax which she helplessly shouted to the world. 

A smug part of her didn’t mind letting the servants hear that their Prince was a virile man who gave his life to the Maker in a different way. Let them know he was pleasuring just one woman late into the night, and that she could make him just as mad with passion. Neither of them tried to keep their voices down as an orgasm blotted out her entire world in a brilliant flash. It was deeper, quicker, harder, and far more intense than the first he'd given her orally, leaving her boneless in his arms as she rode more waves of euphoria with him still thrusting into her. His own orgasm finally took him, and his fingers dug into her as he expelled the potential for Starkhaven’s heir deep inside of her. 

Arms trembling slightly, he lowered her to the bed and lay down beside her. Giddy, she smiled against his lips in a kiss. He was well worth the wait.

**Author's Note:**

> As a joke I began rolling a 10 sided die for male characters before role playing them (or with them) or writing smut. It was a running joke that whatever number I got past 5 was how many inches their penis was. Somewhere along the line it stopped being a total joke and I adopted it as part of the character. I rolled a 10 on Sebastian, so he ended up in the porn star category. (Yeah, well, I thought it was funny considering he can end up never using it or having it appreciated if he stays with the Chantry.)


End file.
